


sun&moon

by kuntens



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, M/M, Painter Renjun, Romance, if i add more tags it's gonna be a hell of a spoiler afskbhf, like literally all angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 09:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14422059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuntens/pseuds/kuntens
Summary: how long could it take for a painter to find his muse?(renjun x jeno :: medieval!au)





	sun&moon

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for slight mentions of past abuse!!

With a deep sigh, the painter threw the scribbled paper to a side, right next to a pile of papers in similar condition. He turned his head to the window to check the outside, a peachy pink shade was slowly replacing the silver-ish grey of the cloudy sky.   _Good, the candle was about to burn out._

The weak fire of the candle was gone with one quick blow, just like the painter’s hopes to finish the painting. At the mere age of 17, Huang Renjun was already one of the most respected artists -if not the most- behind this city’s walls and even beyond. Nothing but pure talent had brought him that far, shocking every single person since he was very young of age - but even the best artists got their blocks, Renjun was experiencing his own very early, unfortunately.

This one painting, the portrait of a young male specifically, was waiting at the corner of the room for the last four months. Usually, Renjun wasn’t the type of artist to use models -he had always thought painting of pure imagination were superior to the ones that had copied concrete things- but this time, he just couldn’t get it right. No matter how much he sketched, wasting paper since he didn’t want to ruin the original, basically nothing was near how he imagined it to be. He was even seeing the face in his dreams, but his hands didn’t cooperate; so he had to accept that he had only one more option, no matter how much he disliked the idea.

Renjun found out soon that it wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.

The painter pulled one of his shabby cloaks out of the crate on a side of the room, not caring the slightest about how his hands were stained in black all over after hours of tightly holding onto a piece of coal. No one would see, no one would mind. His short fingers tied a knot under his chin to secure the cloak, then placed a handmade book with the coal piece in an inner pocket he had sewn himself as those would be the only items he would need through the day.

Renjun hastily peeked out of the window and saw his old friend, _the sun,_ sending the first lights of the day like a warm welcome. A smile found its way to the young male’s lips only to disappear in a matter of seconds, following his exit.

The morning was still as young as a newborn while Renjun wandered the roads, eyes searching for a human sight. Of course, no other person would be out this early in the day; Renjun’s only companions were a few sparrows flying around and singing in their usual hurry, and a brown-white cat which kept herself weirdly healthy for a stray one, which he had named Xiao a while ago – due to the fact she was unusually small in size. Renjun slowly sat down on the stone path walk, to not scare the cat, then reaching to pet her head lazily.

“Only you have seen my work, haven’t you?” His mouth parted to voice a little laughter. “My only friend, really.”

Renjun could be one of the best known artists in the city and even in the kingdom, but there wasn’t a single person who had witnessed his sight – no one, really no one knew his face. He had hired someone to do all his “chores”, if that’s the term, who would also deliver his paintings to the customers and buy whatever item Renjun told him to –with a list that was messily scribbled on a piece of paper that he had found somewhere only God knew– just so the painter wouldn’t have to leave his workplace.

Maybe it was just the mindset that as a painter he didn’t quite fit in with crowds, or he was really just bad at socializing but Renjun had hated going out since forever. Thinking on it now, he was blaming it on his father who had forced him in bothering situations multiple times but Renjun was well aware of his habit to always get himself clear of things; most likely, it was the fault of no one other than himself. 

Whatever was the reason, the clear part was the fact Renjun had never seen himself to be worthy of anyone’s attention, yet care or love. What had he even done to deserve such a thing? He couldn’t even stand being in the same room with someone for more than a few moments, why would he actually try and get close to someone only to give them a broken heart because he _knew_ he would leave them behind at some time?

With the cat, birds and the familiar smell of paint and dust in his house, he was perfectly fine.

(His mind was screaming no but it was shushed in a hurry, Renjun couldn’t just drop the act of lying to himself. Not now. And probably not any time soon either.)

It didn’t really matter at all, though, considering all of it would be done in such a short notice. 

Renjun shook his head to the flood of thoughts. He was supposed to just go and finish the painting, not drown himself in despair on the side of a road in the wee hours – he had to keep his chin up, and carry on.

A warm light of the sun washed over his face and Renjun’s time to get up came. He gently wrapped hands around Xiao’s tiny body and placed her further from himself. “Sorry, dear, time to go.”

Renjun took his time and breathed the fresh air of the early morning, letting the sun caress his skin like a lover’s touch. He had always had this kind of relationship with the celestial body even through his childhood, all the times he was pushed out of his safe zone, Renjun had found the only amount of comfort in the star’s presence felt all over his physique. It was almost as if sun was an old friend of his, watching over him ever since he had opened his eyes to the world. He still had the habit of taking a look outside to find the star outside whenever he fell into the hands of depression and worry.

The city central he had walked to was always so full of people and Renjun loved it. This square had a great contrast to Renjun’s dark and soulless house with all its liveliness; people laughed, people cried, people lived and people died. All the different sides of humanity was flawlessly displayed in this relatively small place, and this was giving Renjun some strength to cope – he admitted that he was a bit of an egoist, but Renjun saw himself as someone who had a better understanding of the world than all these people. Their lives were purely shallow, just keeping on to get the basic needs to survive another day, for what? Surviving another day. These people were spending their entire lives without any attempt at contributing for the sake of humanity, and you would think that Renjun would get angry at this but no, not exactly. The young male _loved_ them solely for this. The simplicity of them was something that made Renjun feel a motherly love – even though he hadn’t really experienced it- towards them, which was the reason why his feet always seemed to be dragging him to the city centre.

 Renjun walked among the busy people whom he had known some, thinking _it’s truly impressive how every single individual here has their own story._ It was easy to blend in through times like this –when he was mesmerized by  how everyone’s own pieces came together to create a bigger, better painting- only to feel like a complete outcast just moments later.

All the people had their own faces and auras but Renjun still couldn’t see anyone who showed the smallest resemblance to what he had in mind. It was no surprise though, considering the painter had been doing this –walking among people searching for _him_ – for months, yet he kept going back empty handed. He was losing hope everyday, barely managing to keep himself together for the sake of finishing his work, no matter what.

The sun went high and his shadow turned shorter as Renjun took a break to eat something. His legs tingled after walking for hours and they kept doing the same until Renjun finally took a seat in the inn he had been going for some time. Perks of working in complete mystery, no one recognized him as the famous Huang Renjun and just saw him as a regular teenager. Even while eating his usual hot soup and honey cake he kept examining the faces around, still keeping the tiny beam of hope in his heart.

The sun was disappearing behind the city walls when Renjun was leaving, the sky taking its pinkish indigo just the way he had painted countless times even though he had always found sunsets a bit sad. Maybe because of that, maybe of something else, but the presence of people had begun suffocating Renjun – years and years of running, but the scars of the past still bled with the tiniest scratch. He needed to get out.

There was no sun at all when Renjun had arrived where he wanted to, it was replaced by the stars creating a beautiful lace on the dark sky. He let himself smile a little, inhaling the refreshing smell of trees and water –yes, it did have a smell. 

The river flew slowly, almost in a haze, complementing the calm ambience of the woods. Renjun reached to his shoulders to get rid of the cloak that got a bit too overwhelming, letting it fall onto the ground. His body followed, trying to find some peace in the grass under his fingers and the light breeze moving through his brunet hair.

Would he ever be able to find that person? Renjun had no idea, he wasn’t that optimistic either. _It’ll be too late before I can even lay my hands on the canvas_. But did he have any other choice than just running around mindlessly? His muse, his sun, had left him without any trace and Renjun’s hands just didn’t cooperate; he wasn’t even able to finish _one_ painting. He was pretty much just filled with self-hatred and nothing else after this point; he felt useless. That was all.

“Hey, you!”

A shout startled Renjun, making him quickly look up and search for the source, then he pushed himself to stand up. “Who’s there?”

“I should be the one to ask you that question, I believe.” Owner of the voice came out of the shadows among the trees.

Renjun was sure he could faint any second.

The young male asked, his brows furrowing. “What, are you mute or something? Just give an answer.”

_This was the same exact face he had been seeing in his dreams. The face he was searching for, for months and weeks and days._

“I… I’m…” The painter knew he shouldn’t be saying the next words but they just rolled out of his tongue. “…Huang Renjun.”

There’s no answer for a brief moment, then the archer’s  –he had appeared with a bow in his hands- eyes widening under his brown bangs and beautifully shaped lips parting. “ _The_ Huang Renjun?”

Renjun was already regretting saying it but he responded with a tired grin out of chivalry. “One and only.”

The archer shifted his weight to his other leg, a suspicious look appearing on his sharp features. “I didn’t assume you would be this young – around my age, I meant.”

“Mistake of the majority.” The painter’s heart kept beating in a pace he had never experienced, out of the excitement his search was finally over. But he had noticed too, the archer had a mature look unexpected for his and Renjun’s age on his face.

“What is the most talented painter of the kingdom doing here, in the woods?” The male pulled his bow to his shoulder, getting closer to him.

Even though he was proud of the compliment, Renjun kept humble; he was not one to brag so he let it pass. “I… needed to be alone.”

“If what I’ve heard about you is true, then why would you need it?” The archer’s gaze implied that the next word he said were strange for him. “They say you don’t leave your house, never.”

The painter just sighed. Was there a proper way to explain it? “What makes you think I owe you answers when I don’t even know your name?”

“You’re right, I apologize.” He pointed to his bag which carried a bunch of dead birds. “Lee Jeno, hunter.”

“Oh, are you K-“

“Before you ask, yes I’m Korean and I had to move here because my whole family was killed in front of my eyes and I had no one else to take care of me so I jumped in a random ship and found myself here.”

Renjun swallowed harshly. _I really am insensitive._

“Satisfied now?” Jeno was folding his harms on his chest with a stern look. 

“…Yes, I’m-“

Jeno brushed him off with one hand movement. “It’s all good, I’m used to those questions… Back to the subject, I work here all the time and since I’ve never seen you before I just wanted  to know who you are, sorry if I came off as rude.”

Renjun had never been good with words as he was with colours, so he decided to just break in like how he always did. “Jeno, do you have a moment to talk?”

  


∞

  


"So this is where Huang Renjun the Great works his magic.“ Jeno muttered as he entered the room after Renjun who was just shaking his head.

"Nothing much, I know.” The painter’s answer wasn’t well thought since he couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact he had brought someone here for the first time ever.

The hunter let a little smile, eyes wandering around the walls. “Believe me, I’ve seen worse looking places than this - but considering one of them was a tomb, it isn’t really comparable, am I right?”

“Will you ever stop joking around?” The painter took a breath in deeply, heartbeat racing the speed of the wind; he was already nervous enough without Jeno acting this way. What if he would scare the boy off? Or what if he didn’t want to help? _Don’t be an idiot, Renjun. He wouldn’t have agreed in first place if he wasn’t going to._

It had taken a short conversation to convince Jeno to help; it didn’t really take anything, actually. Renjun just had to bring up the idea of Jeno modeling for his painting, that he fit the ideal in his mind very well, and the hunter had agreed without any hesitation. 

(Of course, Renjun had slightly lied about him fitting the ideal, but he was just assuming it would sound a little too creepy to say “you’re the one I’ve been searching for months”.)

Jeno was standing in the middle of the room completely clueless since this was the very first time he was doing something like this – the boy really wanted to help but he just had no idea, that was all. “What should I do?”

Renjun didn’t answer as he walked towards the canvas hidden under a piece of cloth to protect it from light and dust, then carried and placed it onto the easel, very careful as if it was his only child; in a sense, Renjun saw it that way even though it just had the background done. He took off the cloth holding his breath, and revealed the unfinished work. 

Jeno waved his hand in front of the painter’s face impatiently. “Hey, can’t you hear me?”

“I do, I do.” Renjun brushed it off as he hurriedly carried a stool to where he was standing and pointed at him to sit. Jeno had his eyes locked on to black haired boy as he gently placed his small and cold hand on Jeno’s jaw, barely sensible, moving his head to the angle he needed for the painting. “Just… just sit like this. Don’t move.”

The hunter mumbled a quick okay, and the painter went to prepare his supplies with shaking hands.

Renjun only felt a sense of relief when he made the first line on the paper. 

The relief didn’t grow with time though. Renjun was of course happy that he had a chance to complete his work, but he was getting more and more attached to Jeno with every day that passed, although there was no way sound this without sounding obsessive. Any sane person would drop back if they heard someone looked for them for four months even if that wasn’t the complete story. The painter was just glad Jeno had agreed to help, otherwise he would’ve had to find another way which wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

And of course there was the fact that Renjun didn’t know how to voice his feelings, considering this wasn’t what a male normally wouldn’t feel for another male; it did make Renjun feel something was off with himself but to be honest, nothing new on the horizon – Renjun had given up on the thought of fitting the ideals of the majority a long time ago. His only concern was Jeno, how the hunter would react to these feelings and whether or not if he would return the feelings.

(Renjun couldn’t allow himself to call it love. Not while he was too scared to admit it.)

The sun was a half circle the colour of copper behind the mountains when Renjun did the first stroke of paint, and if Renjun hadn’t been counting wrong he had seen exactly sixty three more sunsets in which his eyes admired the masterpiece which was Jeno’s sharp features giving off a soft golden glow under the lights gliding through the window. Every morning, the hunter appeared at the door with freshly baked goods and the prettiest smile, then left when it became too dark to paint. It was just something in his mind, Renjun knew it very well, but it always felt like the house was growing colder whenever the boy left.

Jeno was the sun itself with the warm aura that attracted people to him with ease. His smile could melt one’s heart in the shortest time, his gaze could make one fall for him in the blink of an eye. He was the one people would be thankful for its existence, unable to imagine a life without it.

Renjun, giving off this cold vibe at first, was the moon. He was the one people never paid any attention to, yet was the one who lighted your way through the darkest nights. The one who always got forgotten in the background only for a few to notice him. The moon, who never got praised enough but would make a smile appear in one’s face by just the thought of itself.

Jeno was the sun, and Renjun was _his_ moon; always around him but never close enough, always feeling his light but never bright enough. Renjun was the moon, to be destroyed if he went too close.

Would the sun notice a single moon among thousands of others?

Renjun was taking it slow, intentionally. He could’ve finished the painting weeks ago but the painter was too scared to let go, especially on the times he felt a pain stabbing into his chest and his fingers twitched uncontrollably, with the same old monotonous smile he forced himself to keep on.

And so, the painter _lied_. He wasn’t fond of it, and he certainly didn’t want to do so but there was no other choice, not while wanting to hold him back desperately; Renjun just wasn’t ready and he had no idea if he ever would be. He kept on saying that the painting wasn’t done whenever Jeno asked so curiously, reaching over the shorter male’s shoulder trying to see the canvas. The painter would just teasingly tell him off every time, and try to stop himself from feeling guilty – wasn’t easy. 

Jeno on the other hand, seemed to be fine with how things were going on. The hunter had insisted on bringing Xiao inside the house through the second week after listening to the painter mutter stories as he focused on drawing, about the cat and how he never understood how she managed to sneak in all the time. Renjun still wasn’t sure if he agreed for Jeno or just because of the cat meowing sadly outside the door (Jeno’s puppy like stare was also a factor, honestly) but he wasn’t regretting anything. Xiao was the most beautiful cat he had ever seen by far, and Jeno lazily playing with her around the room was quite a sight which made Renjun feel warmth in his stomach, a smile stretching his lips. 

(It would be a lot more pleasant if Jeno wasn’t allergic to cats and didn’t sneeze every few minutes… Renjun had never met someone as stubborn as this guy, really.)

Exactly seventy three days had given Renjun  a joy he hadn’t experienced through all the years he had gone through, but every beautiful thing had an ending and theirs had come. Some would say it was too early, but could something already expected be early? Renjun was yet on the edge of tears as he made the last strokes of paint on the canvas, writing his name in an unnoticeable corner.

Renjun swallowed thickly as he held the canvas shakily and turned it around both in care and worry, curious about the hunter’s opinion on it. The painter’s stare was locked on the taller male under his messy raven locks on every side of his face; not knowing where to put them, his hands kept playing with the hem of his shirt.

Eyes widening with amaze, Jeno got up from the sofa and approached the easel slowly. “It’s… beautiful.” He mumbled, gaze going over the smoothly drawn lines of the brown haired male’s portrait – his own face. Jeno then extended a hand to touch the piece, but stopped midair as if he was afraid of ruining it somehow. 

A new wave of air filled Renjun’s lungs, making him sigh in relief. Jeno did like the painting, there was that at least. _I’ll have to get used to being alone, again._ Renjun mused, a knot growing in his throat. _It’ll be hard, but not for a long time._

He was too caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the hunter’s gaze shifting to him and staying there for minutes. 

All the needless thoughts and such for gone once Jeno’s lips covered Renjun’s for one stolen moment.

 _My sun._ Renjun’s lips curled up after the kiss was broken. _He thinks he knows me, and dares coming to me._ The two just had just ended up holding each other closely like that -Jeno’s one hand had moved to the painter’s waist, the other was gently cupping his face, thumb circling his cheekbone idly. After god knows how long, his stare flew over Renjun’s lips; his own pair parted with need. 

Renjun was the one to close the distance this time. 

The shorter reached to dip his finger’s in Jeno’s soft brown locks as the taller’s grip tightened, pulling him closer; Renjun was sure he could melt because of the taller’s warmth any time. 

He had never imagined it to end this way, but who was he to complain? Again, Renjun was being selfish for the first time in his life and it felt _so_ good, to the point where the painter decided he wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take it from him. Not even Jeno himself. _Only if he was aware._

No. It wasn’t the time for _if_ s and _but_ s.

Renjun wasn’t sure how much time he had spent between Jeno’s arms but when he finally opened his eyes, streaks of tangerine was entering the room from the sky. Jeno’s lashes were spread on his high cheekbones still, and the painter took his time to admire his sharp face softened a little by the soil coloured strands falling on his forehead as if he hadn’t been doing the same thing for weeks. 

“Know that I’m not going to let you isolate yourself anymore.” Jeno spoke in a hushed tone, lips moving fast – almost hurriedly.

Renjun just chuckled, intertwining his finger behind the taller’s neck. “Maybe I should’ve been more careful telling you about myself.” 

Thanks to Jeno’s aura that could attract anyone to himself, the painter wasn’t able to keep any secrets from the hunter – he had spilled pretty much everything about himself by the course of a few weeks. Jeno was a good listener, Renjun had never thought that he was actually paying attention to all that but turned out, he was.

Jeno didn’t even bother answering, just pulled Renjun to himself even tighter and dropped his head on the shorter’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

The painter smiled, letting his eyes close back again. 

That night, for the first time, Renjun wasn’t sleeping alone – the mattress was occupied by both him and Renjun. The hunter was already asleep with his limbs wrapped around the painter, snoring lightly.

Renjun reached to caress his cheek gently, careful not to wake him up, almost not touching. Jeno’s skin was like a summer night, warm and welcoming and weird enough, smelling like roses - for all the painter knew, he had something for these flowers, he had even insisted Renjun to draw one of these in the painting which Renjun had accepted gladly. He still had his own golden glow even under the silvery lights of the moon that seemed to be weaker that night.

 _My sun._ Renjun’s lips curled up in one last smile before his weary eyelids finally fell, exhaling the last amount of air he had taken. Jeno felt that slow breathing, lightly moving in his sleep to cuddle closer.

Little did he know, he’d wake up to Renjun’s body by his side being ice cold and terribly rigid with no heartbeats at all.

The sparrows outside flew in horror as a heartwrenching scream in agony echoed behind the walls.   

  


∞

  


_This is… strange, to say the least._

The young male brushed his blond hair away from his eyes for a more clear vision, thankfully he was tall enough to see behind all the people in the art gallery but he needed to take one closer look, almost as if some kind of invisible cord was pulling him there and he just was unable to resist. 

Politely pushing people to sides, he found himself in front of the glass, the knot in his throat becoming bigger with every second he kept looking. 

The instructor kept speaking, giving a talk about the painting which probably no one was listening except for him. “This painting called belongs to 16th century Chinese artist, Huang Renjun…”

His chest rose with a deep breath, the name had tingled something in his mind - maybe he had heard of the painter in class or something?

“This is one of Renjun’s most beautiful pieces for sure, and the most tragic one, certainly.”

_Tragic?_

Fortunately someone had blurted out the same question, so the instructor kept explaining.

“It was Renjun’s last painting, we know that not just from the date written on the back but from his diaries. He made it while he knew he was going to lose his life very soon…”

The blond was punched in the gut with that last sentence in a way completely unexplainable. He forced himself to watch the painting, the feeling of familiarity growing stronger. The painting was  _his face_ , without any single difference, just the hair. If the blond has let his hair down and left it brown, and placed a red rose behind his ear, he would be exactly the same as the painting and this was scaring him badly; how could someone that lived centuries ago draw him this flawlessly?

“…For all we know from the diaries, Renjun learned about an illness that would kill him in a matter of months, around the time he started the painting. And he couldn’t just draw it the way he wanted - so, he spent a whole four months searching for the perfect model…”

Four months… he wished he had that kind of patience.

“…and yes, he managed to do it - the man in the painting is someone he bumped into. We don’t know his identity, in his diaries Renjun kept referring to him as  _my sun_.”

The blond was taken aback by the name, forgetting to breathe for a moment; there was something too familiar that he just couldn’t explain no matter how much he forced his mind.  _Fuck this._

“…it took him another two months to finish the painting in hurry \- and that, while he pretended to take longer, because he wasn’t ready to let  _his sun_  go…”

Knowing he was dying but still keeping someone close, that was real selfishness but it was understandable, the blond would’ve done the same if that was his last chance to be happy.

“…although it isn’t very certain, we guess that Renjun died right after finishing the painting. It seems like ‘his sun’ delivered it to the right place, which is the reason we are informed about it…”

At least his work hadn’t gone lost, right? The blond shook his head, not feeling able to stare at the painting any longer. He turned his back and prepared to leave, until he heard the instructor again.

“You may be wondering, why was Renjun calling the model  _his sun_? It’s simple - he was in love. He fell for the man during the process, which sadly wasn’t returned.”

“That’s wrong.” The blond blurted out, managing to keep it quiet. “His love was returned, they had no time to live it though…”

No one heard, thankfully.

“This is an excerpt from Renjun’s diary, one of the last entries, where he explains his feelings.” The instructor cleared her throat, and began reading softly.

“… _Yes, he was the **sun**  and I was only a mere **moon** , carelessly going around in his orbit without complaining once. I was a  **moon** , which would be destroyed if it got too close to the  **sun** … yet, I dared to go closer._”

The blond couldn’t bear listening anymore.

He began running towards the exit, his lungs screaming for air as he kept sprinting without stopping to take a single breath. People kept staring at the blond who was mindlessly pushing them to the sides to clear his way.  _I need to get out._

Then, he saw  _him_.

The shorter male was standing in a corner away from everyone, light brunet hair falling on his soft face. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, and his stare was locked on the painting sadly like he had made it himself.

The brunet was familiar, too familiar - almost like the blond had met him in a past life; he didn’t even know the brunet’s name but there was just something that gave him the feeling.

The cord was pulling him closer again, this time to the brunet. And again, he didn’t resist - he didn’t even try to.

Brunet’s head turned towards where the blond stood, their gazes met and he  _knew._

Maybe, fate really did repeat itself.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos + comments are highly appreciated, tell me what you think of it!! 
> 
> (@yutaegf on tumblr)


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